


You Don't Have To Carry Me

by ZombieBabs



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 06:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5775397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieBabs/pseuds/ZombieBabs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set directly after Sleepless in Seattle. Strand asks for Alex's help, but her insomnia catches up with her.</p><p>*Edited 7.25.17</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Don't Have To Carry Me

Alex sits across from Strand. She's a reporter. She's used to hearing shocking information. But even she is having a hard time believing what she's just heard. “You need _my_ help?” 

Strand nods. “You wanted to investigate my life, so help me investigate it.”

Alex shakes her head. “But you already told me--”

Strand puts up a hand to stop her. “Not Coralee.”

“If not Coralee, then what are you looking for with all of this...stuff?” Alex gestures to the disaster zone which was, until recently, his office. Maps and print-outs and bits of newspaper litter every surface, all connected with pieces of string.

“Deava Corporation.”

How does he know about Deava Corp? She hasn't yet shared her findings on Thomas Warren with him. “Wait--”

Strand sits back in his chair. “During our interview, Brother Edwards said I have been watched. All my life. I've had my suspicions, but until then, I had no name for my stalker. The 'Advocate.'”

“You think the Advocate has something to do with Thomas Warren and Deava Corp?”

“I don’t have enough information, I’m afraid." Strand shakes his head. "I’m not willing to speculate at this point.”

What was it Sherlock Holmes used to say? Something about it being a mistake to theorize before one has all the information? That it leads to a person twisting facts to fit theories rather than theories fitting the facts? Alex almost laughs at the thought of Strand in a deerstalker hat. She shoves it down before it can bubble up out of her.

“Alex?” Strand's brows are drawn down in concern.

She blinks at him. "What?"

If anything, he looks even more worried. "Is...something the matter?"

Alex tries to think, but she can’t follow this shift in the conversation. “What do you mean?”

“You were swaying.”

Alex blinks again. “I was what?"

He narrows his eyes. "Swaying."

Was she? She hadn't noticed. "I’m just tired.”

“Tired.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “Yes, tired. While you’ve been holed away _for months_ , _refusing_ to answer calls or tell anyone you're even _alive_ , some of us haven’t been sleeping.”

His cool blue eyes stare right through her. “I needed time.”

A strange sort of darkness crowds Alex in her peripheral vision. She shakes it away. There, now she notices the swaying. Why is she swaying?<.p>

“Time?" she asks. "So that gives you the right to completely disappear?”

He has the grace to look away, ashamed. But he doesn't apologize." 

“Another thing,” Alex says. She stands up, meaning to put her hands on her hips, to have the rare advantage of height while she chews him out. For some reason, the lights dim even further. “Why is it so dark in here?”

His eyes widen. Is that alarm on his face? “It’s not dark in here, Alex.”

He gets up from his seat, rounds the desk, and tries to make his way toward her. Alex blinks, but the darkness doesn’t dissipate this time. Instead, it rolls in, engulfing her like a sinister fog. She takes a step back, away from him, away from the darkness, and suddenly, she's falling.

Like Alice down the rabbit hole, Alex falls for a long time. Hours, maybe. Days, even. When she finally stops falling, she’s left in a dark place, black as void.

She’s alone. Or is she? She can't see or hear, but she _knows_ she's surrounded. She can feel its presence pressing in on her.

She can’t see a thing, but she knows that whatever it is, it’s getting closer. It’s going to get her, tear her to pieces. It's going to--

With a wrenching sensation, Alex wakes.

She clenches her eyes shut against sudden brightness and keeps them closed, just in case she's moved from one hell to the next.

“Is she okay?”

“I don’t know, Ruby.” Dr. Strand’s voice hovers somewhere just above her. “Call Nic. Tell him what happened.”

Footsteps pad across the carpet. The door clicks shut.

A warm hand cups Alex's face. A thumb sweeps across her cheekbone.

“Alex, open your eyes.”

She shakes her head. How does she know any of this is real? Strand has never been this gentle with her. In fact, weren't they just arguing?

“Please.”

She's never heard his voice that soft. Not even when he described losing his wife.

Groaning, Alex forces her eyes open. Pain spikes through her head. She has to squint before the world focuses around her. “I--What happened?”

“You passed out.”

“I _what_?” She tries to sit up, but ends up relying on Strand in order to make it upright. Even then, she keeps a tight grasp on the sleeve of his shirt.

“You really haven’t been sleeping.”

“No, I haven’t. Even the Ambien--”

“Ambien?” He interrupts, running one of his hands through his hair. 

Alex looks at the ceiling. She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s been a while.”

“Since you’ve slept?”

Alex nods. 

Closing his eyes, Strand sits back, looking pained. He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?" She sounds bitter even to her own ears. "It’s not like you could do anything.” 

"I--"

Before Strand can finish his reply, Ruby comes into the office, a cell phone glued to her ear. “Nic, she’s fine. I’m looking right at her. She’s awake and non-concussed. Dr. Strand is taking care of her. Yes, we’ll make sure she gets some rest. Yes. Yes. Yes, Nic. Okay, goodbye.”

Ruby shoves the phone into her pocket. “He’s worried, but I managed to stop him from jumping on a plane. You can thank me later.”

In spite of her annoyance, Ruby closes the door softly behind her, hardly making any noise.

“Let me take you back to your hotel,” Strand says.

“I can manage.”

He helps her to stand, his hand on the small of her back, keeping her steady. “I know. But you don't have to.”

Alex gives him a tight smile. She really doesn't want to have to struggle her way back to her hotel. And Strand is warm, so warm. “Okay.”

He releases her, for just a moment, before he threads and arm behind her knees and lifts her up, bridal-style. Alex circles her arms around his neck, yelping a little in surprise. 

“Did I hurt you?”

A blush spreads across her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“I know,” Strand says, again.

He carries her out of his office. Ruby barely looks up from her computer. “There’s a cab waiting downstairs,” she says. 

“Thanks, Ruby.” 

“She’s a good assistant,” Alex says, once the elevator doors slide shut.

“She’s an excellent assistant,” Strand says. His signature wry smile tugs at his mouth, not yet fully formed, but it's the most Alex has seen of it in months.

Before she realizes it, her fingers trace the curl of his lips. He freezes, his eyes searching hers. 

Alex buries her face in the crook of his shoulder. Her words are muffled in the cotton of his shirt. "Sorry. I’m still really tired. Weird impulses.”

“No,” he says. He clears his throat. “It’s fine.”

Alex wraps her arms more tightly around him. “I was just thinking. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you smile.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you.”

"Considering what happened today, I'd say we can probably call it even. Just promise not to disappear on me again. Deal?"

He breathes a laugh, laden with relief. "Deal."

**Author's Note:**

> *Edited 7.25.17


End file.
